


Some Boys

by gongpagong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:26:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gongpagong/pseuds/gongpagong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Call it fate, chance, destiny. A certain Winchester would likely take pleasure in strangling you for making it look so sappy, but he'll think deep inside that maybe you're right. It's a ridiculous chance encounter; a rare offer may be wasted, but then again maybe not-so-much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Boys

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is [cross-posted ](http://theomegalomaniac.tumblr.com/post/58039890219/some-boys)on [my Tumblr](http://theomegalomaniac.tumblr.com).
> 
> Title inspired by Death Cab For Cutie's song of the same title.

3 months have passed.  _3 months_. You’d think his stupid infatuation would wear off by now. But no! If anything, his feelings are growing stronger in each passing second. Not that he’ll ever admit that to anyone, because Dean Winchester does not do feelings. It’s his standard protocol to ignore girly human traits. So no, Castiel Novak can go fuck himself because Dean Winchester is having none of this shit.

It’s not like it’s Castiel’s loss that Dean’s not even gonna try to swoon him. He’s a fucking princess, for god’s sake! All the boys and girls will come to his yard even without a fucking milkshake. He’s too goddamned perfect that it wracks on Dean’s nerves whenever it crosses his mind. Fuck his messy black hair, and those captivating blue eyes. Dean Winchester is having none of that shit!

Dean Winchester definitely won’t have any of that shit, because he’s a fucking pussy. He can drag his sorry ass all throughout the rest of high school, and live a miserable single life for not having the balls to go up to the only person he’s ever had stable genuine feelings for. Damn him! Damn him to hell and back.

And if Dean’s sulking right now on the roof of his house overlooking Castiel’s room on the house across, he’ll tell you he’s fascinated of the stars peppering the night sky. Which if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it’s his hobby to stargaze even if he can barely name any constellation.

There he is, the sexy bastard, splayed over his bed on the phone with one of the lucky callers. Dean could almost imagine his message alert tone: "first one to ring at 8:00 in the evening gets to have a 30 minute chat with this hot piece of ass. Oops, too late! Already got a winner. You can profess your love after the beep." Not that he’s ever tried calling before.  _Shut up, Sammy. That was one time! And it was an_ accident _!_

 

. . .

 

Today’s a normal day. Dean’s walking to school with his part time genius, 100% puppy brother Sam. Dean really hopes it’s a normal day. But knowing his luck? He’ll probably get hit by a bulldozer out of nowhere and fate would see it normal. Who would’ve thought something could be worse than that; because just now he got almost hit by a car in his haze. Not just any other car. He would’ve been okay if that was the case. But  _no_! Of course it had to be Castiel’s. Castiel and his boy toy for the week who’s currently practically straddling the blue eyed boy in the driver’s seat. Bless everything with horseshit! Dean Winchester almost died because the constant lead actor in his pornographic dreams is having a hot make out session while driving. Thank you very much.

His gigantor baby brother is now all over his space in full panic; his eyes are drowning in worry. Cue Dean gripping his shoulder to steady himself and managing a slurred, "I’m fine, Sammy. It’s okay. I’m fine." Even if he’s practically gonna pass out any minute; which he does, by the way, even for just a second. Now he’s sort off sprawled in a pavement on the way to school, and the only conscious thought he has definitely involves those two pools of blue he allowed himself to drown into.

 

 

. . .

 

Dean wakes up in the school clinic with a raging headache and a mop of black hair by his side. He scrambles his thoughts to replay what had just happened and he remembers a blurred snapshot of a couple making out on the front seat, Sammy’s puppy eyes, and a vague memory of blue. Holy shit. That pair of blue, and this mop of black hair.  _Holy shit._  It can’t be. Fuck, it’s talking to him. He can’t make out the words, despite his gaze’s fixation on those pink lips.  _Oh god._

“Did I die?” Oh go on, Winchester; as if this day’s still lacking a shit ton more of embarrassment. Help yourself.

The bastard fucking tilts his head in that adorable way he does and chuckles. God _damn_. _"Is he trying to kill me?"_ Dean wonders, but the other boy is moving his lips again. Yet he’s still unfortunately unable to comprehend. So Dean just looks at his face, memorizing the sharp turns and soft features while he can.

“You didn’t die, assbutt,” Castiel chuckles again. He takes Dean’s hand in both of his and he looks at him sympathetically, “I’m really sorry, Dean. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, and you know, to make up for the trouble, just tell me, okay?”

Dean’s mind is swelling with ideas he’s afraid it would implode on the spot. Without much thought he blurts, “I think I need a burger.” And wow, a hundred points to Dean Winchester for wasting the opportunity of a lifetime! The floor is now open for every pissed off bastard who wants to beat up Dean for doing so. Not like he’d actually need all of Castiel’s suitor’s to fall in line to get beaten to a pulp, he could manage that all on his own.  _Please_. Dean Winchester: poster boy of self-deprecation.

Castiel smiles and huffs a laugh in amusement, “I could take you to Burgatory. You know that new diner across the movie house?”

“Yeah, haven’t tried it yet, though.” Dean pauses and squints at Cas. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Well, that caught Castiel off guard. It’s not like he’s never been on a date before. In fact, he spends his weekends on all sorts of dates. Heck, he wasn’t even as stunned when Michael Milton, the most popular guy in high school and possibly the hottest teenage hunk in the entire state, asked him out. Castiel doesn’t gape when he’s talking about dates. And the biggest issue right now is that Castiel Novak, who’s perpetually on dates, never asks anyone out on a date. So he tells Dean that, but the little shit just smirks and tells him that burgers and movies sounds like a date to him.

“Who said there will be a movie involved?” Castiel tried to sound nonchalant. He really did. The poor kid, not used to getting his ego dampened.

Dean shrugs, and pulls the most innocent look he could muster, “you did.” And fuck if Castiel didn’t think it was adorable because Dean knows it was. He uses it on Sammy on occasion and it never fails to waver the kid’s conviction, which you must know that he has a lot of. Kid’s gonna be a lawyer someday, and he knows that’s fucked up because by now the brothers are both aware that Dean could be Sammy’s greatest downfall in the history of lawyers' downfalls.

Castiel looked nonplussed, which earned him a smirk from Dean. And whoa, hold that shit up! Since when did Dean get the upperhand in this? Castiel, in his ever thinning patience from his bruised ego, manages an, “I did not!” counterattack. He’s mature like that, he knows and Dean figured. So the injured man just rolled his eyes and sighed. “Whatever, man. ‘Mgood, ‘slong as I get to have a burger.” He yawns, and glimpses a fond look on Cas’ face before going back to rest.

 

 

. . .

 

Dean’s generally fine –save from the faint throbbing headache—when he wakes up from his impromptu hibernation from the accident, just in time for the bell of the end of the last class to ring. Cas walks to his bed to check on him, and asks if he’s free to grab burgers today. Which Sam overhears and asks Dean, “you’re finally going on a date with  _Castiel Novak_?” He beams his endearing puppy smile, to which Dean groans as a response. Castiel just looks like he wants to bang his head on a wall, but there’s fondness in his features even if he practically just met the Winchesters.

Dean snorts at Sammy as his kid brother talks about staying at the library for some nerdy business with this Jessica girl. He yells, “Wrap it before you tap it, squirt!” The resulting snort from Cas was satisfying until Sam replies a, “you too, you two!” before running off to the library, which effectively shuts Cas up. Dean wants to strangle Sam but he ends up laughing at the horror in Cas’ face.

Dean replies, “’sjust a date, Sammy,” even if he knew the younger Winchester wouldn’t hear him, just to piss Cas off. He shoots Cas his most charming smile, faltering the glare the egotistical idiot’s giving him.

Cas shifts his weight from foot to foot, fiddling with his crooked tie, and mumbles, “so… are you ready for the…,” he coughs, “uhh… burgers?” He didn’t almost say date. Nope. Crap. He almost said date –not that he’ll ever let anyone know that, of course.

 

 

. . .

The date was uneventful. Save from the unnecessary clapping Dean gave him when he downed his third burger. Castiel thought Dean looked like an idiot, with an amused smile on his face, while overexcitedly clapping his hands. No, actually, he thought Dean looked like a toddler who just learned how to walk and was fairly amused of himself. Other than that they just talked about Cas’ plans for college, while Dean just proudly talked about Sam’s plan to be a lawyer someday. Ultimately, Cas enjoyed it so much that he didn’t even notice that he regarded tonight as a date.

In the car ride to Dean’s house, Castiel is having an internal debate on how this is and isn’t a date. Halfway through the ride, Castiel’s suspecting that Dean’s been stalking him before because he’s supposed to bring Dean to the Winchester residence but Dean’s pointing him to the direction of the Novak residence. Turns out they were neighbors. Who knew?

Turns out, Dean did. Because he convinced Castiel to park in his garage and offered to just walk across the street. He followed Dean to his house, still debating in his head that this is not a date. Which, of course, is a futile debate because damn it, he’s walking Dean to his house.

Dean turns to him when they reach the door. He smiles his charming smile and thanks Cas for the date. Cas shoots him an irritated look and grumbles, “it’s not a date if there’s no kiss.” Mostly to convince himself more than to let Dean know.

Dean’s eye shoots up and he taps all of his pockets. He mumbles a string of curses which amused Castiel because, " _wow, this guy is articulate._ ". Cas throws Dean a questioning eyebrow at his frown and he answers, “I don’t have my keys.”

Castiel’s eyebrow shoots higher and he huffs a laugh, “of course you don’t. It’s not a date.” But Dean’s not listening.

Dean’s fumbling for his phone and tells himself that he’s, "got to talk to Sammy". Castiel’s still amused but he’s starting to feel confused. Why is not having a kiss so important to Dean that he has to tell his brother?

“Hello? Sammy? Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you on your date with this Jessica girl, but Sammy, please don’t tell dad but I uhh… I don’t have my keys. Imayhavelostthem. I-- yeah? Cas is still with me but I don’t have my keys, man. So yeah. If you could just come home earlier than John, that would be great. I… uhh… yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks squirt.”

And if it wasn’t confusing enough earlier, Castiel was more baffled to hear Dean beg his little brother not to tell their dad that he didn’t have a kiss. Dean rubbed a hand to his face, sat on the steps, and stared into the distance. Castiel noticed how troubled he looked that it made his heart clench. So he stood in between Dean’s legs, bent over, and kissed him.

Dean looked at him with a smirk although his expression was still damp with worry, “I thought you said this wasn’t a date.”

“It wasn’t. It’s just that you got too upset when I mentioned that it’s not a date if there’s no kissing, and then you kind of freaked out a little that you "didn’t have your kiss" and then you panicked and called your brother and told him that, and then you begged him not to tell your dad that, and then you looked like you just saw your puppy get kicked…” Castiel still has a lot to ramble on but Dean was chortling until he couldn’t help the bubbling laughter anymore.

“Oh man!” Dean scrunched up his face and held a palm to his forehead, but he was still laughing, “I meant, I didn’t have my  _keys_. As in, I can’t open the door. Not,” and he’s practically wheezing right now, unable to finish his statement. Castiel feels sort of vexed but there’s something about the radiating joy from Dean that makes him blush in embarrassment, but can’t help to hold back a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> I may make this into its own universe if given enough inspiration, and well, yknow, time. I'd appreciate some lovin', though. That may give me a boost, who knows.


End file.
